Laundry Day
by forensicsfan
Summary: A little post-ep for PitP. I couldn't let Booth's confession about his laundry issues slide without Brennan saying something about it.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, I didn't create them, and I don't profit from them.

**Author's Note:** This is dedicated to GCatsPjs Twitter icon.

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><p>Brennan glanced over at Booth as she drove back from the Radical Honesty group where they'd tried to glean a bit more information about their victim. Sweets seemed unusually quiet in the backseat, so much so that she almost forgot he was back there. She broke the silence as she addressed her partner. "Do you go commando often?"<p>

Booth nearly snorted his lung out of his nose and his eyes widened as he looked at her with disbelief that she would bring up something like that with their resident Shrinky Dink chuckling in the backseat. "Bones!"

"I was just curious how many times you've gone commando while we've been working together." In the forefront of her mind, she considered how very surprised she would have been if he'd chosen to go commando the day she had to process him for evidence when Santa had been blown up.

"Not going to answer that." His voice had a hint of sing-songy and he impatiently tapped his foot. If he had been behind the wheel, they would have no doubt already made it back to the Jeffersonian.

"Interesting that you should bring this up now…" Sweets thought that this was an extraordinarily opportune moment to dig in a little deeper at the subtext.

Booth ignored him. "We are _not_ having this conversation with Sweets in the car." What he should have said was that they weren't going to have this conversation ever.

"I thought perhaps Sweets might interject as to whether this is a common practice among men." She raised a single eyebrow in that way that she approached any scientific inquiry.

Suddenly Sweets wasn't as keen on digging as deep as he was before. "Perhaps Agent Booth is right that this is a conversation better left between the two of you." It was a complete cop out and he was perfectly okay with it.

"Thanks, Sweets." There was a sarcastic grumble in Booth's voice and he crossed his arms over his chest and glanced out the window. This drive to the Jeffersonian felt like it was taking an eternity.

Mercifully, Brennan dropped the subject.

At least for a few hours.

They had taken a stack of files and some take out back to his apartment to continue running down some leads. Booth had just sat down on the couch and had hoisted a bite of Pad Kee Mao up to his mouth when she sprung it on his again.

"You're not going commando right now are you?" She was perfectly nonchalant about the whole thing as she took a sip of her beer.

Booth squirmed a bit and huffed a breath out his nose. "You're not going to let this go are you?" Why the hell did the woman have to bring this up now? He should have known that she wasn't about to drop it.

"Well I just noticed that you're wearing clothing that you wore earlier this week and it occurred to me that perhaps you hadn't had the opportunity to do laundry." It was a perfectly logical observation really. Well that and the fact that she'd been thinking lately that this avoidance dance they were doing was getting old. She felt nearly strong enough to take a leap, she just wondered if he had stopped being angry. Either way, perhaps it was time they started being radically honest.

"So just because I'm wearing my favorite Van Halen t-shirt twice in one week, you assume I'm going commando." He snorted out his comment to try and throw her off.

"You have other favorites." She had seen a plethora of t-shirts on Booth over the years and very seldom had there been a repeat unless they'd been working on a case out of town.

"True, I do." He grabbed his beer and took a swig. He did not need for Bones to know that Laundry Day was well overdue. In fact, if she hadn't been sitting next to him on the couch peppering him with questions about his current condition, he might have quietly excused himself so he could put a load into the washer.

She poked at his shirt and looked him in the eye. "But that one has a ketchup stain from when you had a burger at the diner on Tuesday." She really was very observant and she knew that if Booth had anything clean to wear that he would have chosen it.

He let out a sigh and put down his beer, glancing over to look at her. "Geeze, Bones. What are you trying to do? You want me to tell you that I'm going commando? Okay, fine. I'm going commando." He leveled one of those burning looks at her. "Are you satisfied?" He reached for his beer again.

She reached for her own beer and gestured towards his jeans. "It can't be comfortable, what with your…"

He held up his hand and cut her off. "Don't say it." He put his beer down again. "You know what, let's just make this easy. I need to do laundry. Okay? We've been working so hard on this case that I haven't had a chance to take five minutes to throw in a load."

"You could do some now." She smirked.

"Okay, Captain Obvious." He smirked back. She was right, he could do some and unless he wanted to be quizzed by her again tomorrow, he needed to do it right now. He pulled himself off the couch and glanced down at her. "Be right back."

She watched him disappear into his bedroom and then reappear a few moments later with a laundry basket that was at a complete disadvantage at keeping the pile of dirty clothing confined. A particularly flashy sock dropped as Booth passed by on his way to the small laundry room. She reached down and picked it up and then pulled herself off of the couch and silently followed.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard her voice.

"Booth, you dropped a sock." It was only then that she realized that he was scrambling for a towel, having thrown his t-shirt and his jeans into the wash along with everything else. Her eyes widened.

"Uh, thanks, Bones." The tension in the room was palpable as he grabbed the sock and quickly tossed it in the washer, making sure that the towel was secure.

She stood there for a long moment just looking at him. "Were you planning on working like that, because to be radically honest, I think I would find that very distracting."

Booth swallowed.

"Although it would be far more distracting if you _weren't_ wearing the towel." She blinked at him.

He swallowed again.

"Because if you weren't I would have difficulty not envisioning us in a mutually satisfying sexual situation." She hadn't moved at all and she was finding her ability to maintain rational thought very challenging with the way his chest was staring at her.

He was sure that there were going to be consequences later, maybe good, maybe not, but he was at the end of his self restraint. In the next moment, he had Bones pressed up against the door frame and his lips were a hairs breadth from hers. His voice was a gravelly whisper. "Bones."

Her voice had a soft lilt. "Are you going to just stand there or are you going to kiss me?" Although it was scientifically impossible, her legs felt gelatinous as she considered what she was asking him to do.

In the next instant they were a tangle of arms and legs and lips and suddenly they were moving towards his bedroom, the intent clear as articles of her clothing came flying off along with one lone towel.

It was a while later and the not just partners anymore were tangled up together and neither one of them was in much of a hurry to go anywhere now that they'd taken the big plunge. "No changies, no take backs, Bones." He was grinning. His wildest dream had just come true and it was everything he'd hoped it would be and more.

"I wouldn't dream of it." She let out a sigh and then pulled herself up to look him in the eyes. "Out of curiosity, were you planning on wearing that towel all night?" There was an impish sparkle in her eyes.

He smirked. "Nah, I had a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You just surprised me before I could put them on."

She smirked back, her fingers reaching out to touch his cheek. "For the record, I'm very glad I interrupted you."

"I am too, Bones, I am too." He pulled her in for a kiss, reasoning that there was plenty of time to throw his clothes in the dryer later.

_**The End**_


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